Sherlock: A study in view points (Parentlock)
by gogingergiraffe
Summary: Sherlock and John raising their son: Hamish Watson-Holmes. A fluffy fic that contains Johnlock and Mystrade. And of course Parentlock.


Sherlock

Who knew that raising a son could be so difficult? Sherlock would be gone for five minutes- or what he thought was five minutes- and he would come back to Hamish to find that he's either built a 'play den' or was reading a book. "John! Why are you letting our son 'play pretend'? As far as I know there is no such thing as the Starship Enterpri…"

"As far as I know, Sherlock, it's perfectly normal for a child to use his imagination. Just because you didn't have a childhood doesn't mean our son can't have one." John protested. Sherlock didn't know why John disagreed with him. Hamish should have been doing his chemistry equations and finding interesting cases to solve; just like Sherlock did when he was a child- that was real fun. He turned to look at Hamish who was sitting in John's armchair pretending to drive a car.

"Vroom! Vroom! Look who's coming up on the left- IT'S HAMISH WATSON-HOLMES! He's charging towards the finish line! And he crosses it! Hamish Watson-Holmes has won the race!" Hamish screamed and leaped from the chair, squealing loudly. Sherlock put his head in his hands.

"Now look John! He's running riot!"

"He's having fun!" John contended, taking Sherlock by the shoulder and leading him to the sofa. They both sat down and Sherlock couldn't understand why John looked so angry. "Look…Sherlock…Hamish is eight years old; he goes to school, does his homework and likes to play pretend. What's wrong with that in your eyes?" John explained, staring at his face with a totally dead pan expression.

"Well, Hamish should be studying…and finding interesting cases…"

"Oh no, we're not having this conversation again!" John interrupted.

"Sorry?"

"Hamish is not you Sherlock." He prodded Sherlock's chest forcefully. "He can do what he finds fun. Don't get me wrong- he's clever. Not that you ever bothered to come to his last parent's evening." He glowered; this was the last straw for Sherlock as he threw his arms up in protest.

"I was on a case!"

"What's more important eh? The future of our son or whether you can solve who killed Mr Smith?!" John's face turned a slight shade of purple.

"I think you'll find it was Mr Jones." Sherlock muttered. He turned to John whose expression had gone from dead pan to absolutely fuming.

"I don't believe you; you need to have a look at yourself sometime dear." John said through gritted teeth. Sherlock faced the mirror with a bored expression.

"What about me?"

"It was a figure of speech nit wit!" John exclaimed. Meanwhile Hamish had been standing in the doorway wearing a paper crown.

"Father please don't shout at Papa." He frowned. Sherlock and John turned in unison to face their son- Sherlock with a worried expression.

"On the contrary, Hamish, Papa was shouting at me." Sherlock corrected, earning him a slight kick in the leg.

"How are you sweetie?" John asked cheerily, completely changing his attitude. _It seems John now only reserves his happiness for Hamish. _Sherlock mused. Hamish wandered into the main living space and plopped himself next to John, taking off his paper crown and placing it gently on his lap.

"I am feeling most content Papa. But I wish to know why you and Father are shouting." Hamish knitted his eyebrows, putting on a stern expression. John looked fondly at their son for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Just tell him John. He'll understand as he's not a child anymore." Sherlock said blatantly. He didn't care what John told Hamish as long as it was the truth. John faltered for a moment trying to conduct his words whilst Hamish waited patiently for his reply.

"Father doesn't think you're pushing yourself academically." Sherlock continued to face the mirror, letting John's words float around him like birds trying to land but without a nest. Hamish stared at his paper crown before his eyes peered up from beneath his dark curls.

"Father…I'm sorry." Hamish said slowly, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Shush, it's alright." John comforted and pulled Hamish in for a hug but he recoiled from his touch.

"It's fine Papa. I can fix it." Hamish sobbed and then scrambled from the chair, his paper crown discarded on the floor as he ran for the door.

"Hamish! No!" John called but it was too late, the boy had already gone. "Sherlock we have to go after him. He can't…"

"Leave him John. I know exactly where he's going." Sherlock replied blankly, pulling out his phone and sending a text.

"Where's he going then?!" John exclaimed in disbelief.

"He's going to see the Queen." Sherlock smirked as he disappeared into the kitchen.


End file.
